To Be Left Behind
by Sharys Aogail
Summary: One Shot. Truths are brought to light when a choice is made. Sometimes the fear of being left behind is stronger than the fear of rejection. Please Review.


Disclaimer: All characters represented here are not mine, and they never will be. I was under orders to borrow them for a little while.

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To Be Left Behind

By: Sharys Aogail

My consciousness rose from a world of darkness to one of pain. Horrible, searing pain that went far beyond the physical, saturating my mind even as it consumed my body. Even without seeing it, I knew that my body was covered with gashes and burns, and that they were the cause of my current condition.

I remembered what I had done, quite clearly in fact. A sense of satisfaction settled over me as I felt that for once I had done something _right_. And with that came a sense of peace.

"Get up."

My eyes cracked open reflexively at the familiar voice. Tilting my head to the side I spotted a small dark figure standing nearby. My vision was a bit blurry, but I could tell it was him. So . . . he had finished off our opponent after all. I gave him a small smile in greeting. When I did not move further, he shook as he bit out a harsh, "I said get up!"

In a flash of movement he was kneeling beside me, his hands gripping my shoulders violently. Small but sharp nails bit painfully into my flesh. "You fool! What the hell were you thinking?! You stupid fool . . ." he trailed off as his body shook in the throws of a sudden coughing fit. When it finally subsided he pulled his hand away from his mouth, thick crimson liquid coating the palm.

It was then that my vision cleared enough for me to be reminded of his own injuries. In short terms, he wasn't nearly as bad off as I was, but the damage was already done, leaving no way out this time.

Especially for me.

His eyes were burning with that all too familiar fire, his pain barely masked by anger. Blood coated everything, his clothes, his hair . . . wither it was all his or partly my own I didn't know. Not that it would have mattered anyway.

I smiled faintly even as he glared. "Glad to see you too," I rasped.

He snarled, his nails digging back in with a vengeance. I winced. "Idiot! That blow wasn't meant for you! You weren't supposed to interfere!"

I knew that I wasn't, and that he wanted me to stay out of it, but that blast . . . it would have killed him in an instant. I just couldn't just stand by and watch that happen. I knew full well what the consequences were, and how angry he would be. But . . . I wanted . . .

"Are you listening to me?!" He shook me hard, his anger quickly turning into frustration. His voice was slightly choked, as if he was holding back tears. "Your actions were pointless! My wounds were _fatal_, don't you _get it_? I was a goner from the start."

"I know."

He jerked back like a startled animal, but recovered quickly. Blood red eyes asked the question his own pride kept him from voicing. Pride . . . and fear.

Summoning what strength I had left, I gently touched the side of his face, my bloodied fingers leaving a stain in their wake. My body shook with the effort it took to keep my hand in place, eyes stinging with a sudden wave of tears. "I just . . . I didn't want to be left behind."

His gaze flickered. He knew what I meant, even without the proper words. In truth, I don't think they were necessary.

After a long moment he gave a single, grim nod, and lowered my hand back down to my side. My breath was becoming shallow and my vision was fading fast, so when he retrieved something from inside his tattered shirt, I couldn't quite make out what it was. With careful and precise movements, he lifted my head and gently placed something around my neck. A warm hand ran itself through my blood matted hair in a slow, lingering movement, and then was gone.

"Fool," he repeated softly, his voice uncharacteristically resigned. With a final, world weary sigh, the fire demon leaned over me, his head and arms coming to rest over my fatally wounded chest. I could feel his tears leaving trails of fire, even as they spilled down his face. "You won't be left behind. We'll go together."

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And so they were found later that evening, discovered by a distraught Kurama and Kuwabara. They stood there in shock at the scene laid out before them. As oncoming darkness swallowed the battleground, a single glittering white hiraseki stone could be seen about Yusuke's neck, the gem glowing red in the dying sun. Scattered on the blood-stained earth, dozens of it's dark counterparts gleamed as well, mourning the one who had shed them.

FIN

Author's Note: Dear gods, I'm depressed now. A good friend asked me to do this piece for her . . . so here it is. I hope she's happy. Reviews, as always, are more than welcome, for I am interested in your opinion. Sorry if I got the real name of the tear gems wrong, so if you know the proper name, tell me so corrections can be made. Umm . . . Wow. I'm gonna go curl up on the couch with the Makona plushie that my boyfriend gave me and cry for a while. Excuse me . . .

Sharys


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